


Breathe In

by Calyah



Series: Jaal Ama Darav x Sierra Ryder [6]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyah/pseuds/Calyah
Summary: Emotions are raw. Jaal and Sierra need a moment alone. (Final mission spoilers)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed to write this scene to address how I felt Jaal and my Ryder would react to that final mission on Meridian. Spoilers for endgame stuff.

Jaal can remain silent no longer. The world dims, narrowing his focus only to her, and he slaps the switch to stop the shower.

Sierra doesn’t even turn. Her palms are flat against the smooth metal, and her shoulders curl in. She knows, must have known when he followed her in here after the mission was done. 

“Jaal…” she begins, but he doesn’t let her continue. 

His arms rush out, wrapping her in his embrace and pulling her close. The wetness of her skin and hair seeps into his clothes, but he doesn’t care. He needs to touch her, needs to feel her life within his grasp. 

Tears well in his eyes as her chest slowly expands—the breath he had prayed and begged for in his panic. “You were…” His voice chokes, and he squeezes her closer. “Dead.”

Images flash—memories of her final gasp, her hands ripping at her hair, before she collapsed to the floor…lifeless. Memories of Liam pushing on her chest, pressing his mouth against hers and giving her his air. Memories of his own body shaking, slamming against the thick metal doors, trying anything to get them free.

His body shakes now too, as he holds her. He has never before considered her anything but strong, a force of nature to behold. And maybe she still is. She is the one doing the comforting, running her hands down his back in soothing and firm strokes. Maybe it is he who has been struck weak.

“I’m okay,” she whispers, nuzzling her head into his shoulder, but he can feel her slight trembling, a gentle reminder that she is not infallible against his skin. 

His heart almost stops knowing she could have been so easily lost. 

“I know,” he responds, swallowing thickly around his tears. He takes in a shaky breath and pulls back so that he can cup her face in his hands. “I just need a moment to…touch you. Feel you. To assure myself that you are still here.”

He slides his thumb over her brow—across her jaw, down her neck—until his palm rests flat against her chest. There. The steady beat of her heart. He closes his eyes and focuses on its rhythmic thump. 

Alive. 

Her fingers lightly curl around his. “We have to go back out there,” she says quietly. “I have to get ready.” 

Jaal opens his eyes, and he nods, but she doesn’t move. Her lips part and then close, her jaw clenching as a sweep of emotion enters her eyes. Grief, he realizes, and angry pain. 

“He has my brother,” she finally says. The words are whispered and harsh—a slight, frightened crack in the steady calm she projects. Her fingers curl harder around his hand. “I can’t lose him.” Her chest heaves. “I have to go. I can't…”

Jaal cuts her off with a gentle hush and pulls her close. “I know, Darling One. I know.” He kisses her brow. She is shaking fully now, whether in fear or rage, or both, he doesn’t know, but he holds her tighter. 

“We will get him back,” he declares firmly, hoping to lend her his own strength to bolster hers. “The Archon will not have him.” His hands smooth up and down her back, stroking her just like she stroked him. “Whatever you need from me, it is yours.” 

Her breath is uneven, but deep—a steadying action before she pulls back. “Thank you,” she says with a nod. She smiles then—small, barely creasing her soft cheeks, but it warms him—proof that her inherent light has not entirely dimmed.

“I will prepare,” he says, not wanting to let her go, but doing so all the same. 

He turns towards the door, but a gentle touch on his wrist causes him to pause. 

“Will you stay with me?” She asks, her eyes searching as she backs into the shower to make room. “At least for a little while?”

Warmth and love flows over him, so fierce it seems to constrict his very being. 

“Of course,” he says, his voice rough and hardly more than a murmur. Slowy, he reaches for the clasp of his _rofjinn_ and strips, watching her as she watches him in return—drinking in the sight of her body and her spirit, whole and well before his eyes and so precious to his heart. She turns the water back on, and he steps under its spray, letting the hot streams flow down his back as he pulls her close. “As long as you need.”


End file.
